


The fox and the wolves

by embeer2004



Series: The fox [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Post-The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 00:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: Avallac'h returns to the land of the Aen Seidhe and ponders how things have changed.





	The fox and the wolves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrueTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/gifts).

> This all started because of a prompt by TrueTattoo, I just typed what came to mind next.  
Oh TT, this could have ended up so much whumpier than now, but the elf went this way. Next time... 😙

These humans were not like he'd expected. Then again, his entire perception of them, of the worlds actually, had shifted.  
  
He felt different. Sensed things different. No longer was he calm and composed, removed from the events occurring around him, even though he tried to maintain his outward composure. It was getting more difficult by the day, ever since...  
  
Ever since the Lady Yennefer and the strange group of witchers had subjected him to the Trial of the Grasses, a ritual so obscure it was a miracle they hadn't botched up the job any further than they already had.  
  
He _felt_ now. There was this irrational sense inside himself demanding that he release the energy that was accumulating inside his every cell, the very atoms of his being.  
  
He stared at his hand, slowly clenching and unclenching it, feeling the muscles underneath his skin contracting and releasing.  
  
So different.  
  
He'd first realised something had changed when Geralt had come up to him, before he and Cirilla had lured Eredin to this world, the world of the Aen Seidhe. The witcher had radiated distrust and had not-so-subtly hinted at wanting to know who the elf in his lab had been.  
  
Not that the she-elf mattered. Not anymore, at least; not then when Geralt had demanded answers.  
  
Then when they'd stood before the Tower of Gvalch'ca he hadn't attacked the witcher, despite the turmoil whirling through his mind and body. He could have so easily destroyed the human where he stood, or frozen him in place with just a spell.  
  
But he hadn't wanted to.  
  
He had felt _empathy_, and it had grown ever since his awakening from his cursed state. His feelings towards Cirilla, his ward, had shifted and he'd been actually worried about her taking on the White Frost, but had resigned himself to her wishes.  
  
It was all so silly then, so grandiose. What had he tried to achieve, abducting a young Cirilla and scheming... always scheming...  
  
The White Frost... He'd realised it later that the way he had been handling the matter was ill suited; the path he'd been on wouldn't have put a dent in the comings of the End of All Worlds...  
  
Their journey may have started from a desire not to have Cirilla's power fall into the wrong hands, and while it had been difficult to separate her from his beloved Lara in the beginning, he'd realised soon enough that Cirilla was a special woman in her own rights, and not just for the Elder Blood she carried in her veins.  
  
Sighing, Avallac'h turned his head and looked at the bed, where Geralt currently lay, unconscious.  
  
An accident, really. He hadn't meant to physically lash out at him, but the witcher had encroached on his personal space and he'd startled, reacting on instinct.  
  
_Startled!_  
  
How come he hadn't sensed any interference when establishing his portal? He'd aimed for Cirilla's location, wanting to see for himself how she was doing now several months after defeating the White Frost, but to his horror his magic had failed and now he was here. Wherever here was.  
  
Cirilla was nowhere in sight, nor was she near enough to have heard the rukus of just a few moments before, though now that he'd calmed down somewhat he could feel the thread of her presence.  
  
He'd go after her in a moment. First he needed to make sure Geralt was all right. Cirilla would never forgive him if he'd left her surrogate father in such a sorry state.  
  
At least Geralt's temple had stopped bleeding.  
  
By the stars, how had he been fast enough to actually hit the man?  
  
Feeling his own brow wrinkling into a frown, Avallac'h cocked his head, trying to determine from the witcher's breathing pattern whether he was going to wake up any time soon.  
  
Cirilla would believe him when he told her it had been an accident, but would Geralt? The witcher had no reason to trust him, after all. He'd disappeared shortly after Cirilla had entered the portal, sensing the moment his ward had achieved her task and leaving it up to her to find her way back. The Lady of Time and Space... it was what they had agreed.  
  
He'd been eager to return home and establish for himself that all was well, a bit too eager as with only a nod in Geralt's direction and a quick "It's done" he'd created a portal and stepped through.  
  
Ge'els had kept his promise, and now that the world had been saved the lieutenant had been sure to demand his due pay, a favour for a favour.  
  
And paid he had... for all these months, until the whole of Tir ná Lia had calmed down after all the political changes that had been brought about.  
  
"Hnnng." A groan rose up from Geralt, and the witcher started shifting on the mattress, his chest heaving with deeper breaths.  
  
Steeling himself, Avallac'h decided to put on his calm, unfeeling facade. Tricks and lies were no longer necessary, but a change too sudden would raise suspicion.  
  
The fox had gained a few grey hairs and still knew its tricks, but it was far too content to lay down with the wolves and bask in a hunt well finished.  
  
**The end**


End file.
